His Third Best Friend
by akmdreamer
Summary: Harry and Ginny were better friends than you may think. There were times when Ron and Hermione didn't know what to do about his moods, and Ginny was the one to snap him out of it. Who were really Harry's best freinds? Perhaps he had...three?
1. Beginning

**DISCLAIMER: *scoffs* Yep. Totally. In my wildest, grandest dreams.**

**A/N: So, this was a fan art-inspired piece. I really wish I could draw, but sadly, I - er - to put it bluntly - I suck at it. I am an artist of words. :) A picture may speak a thousand words, but to me, writing those words down and manipulating them into that picture is a hell of a lot more fun. :D**

**Summary: Harry and Ginny were better friends than you may think before that Saturday night after the Quidditch Cup. There were many times when Ron and Hermione didn't know where he was or what to do about his moods, and Ginny was the one to snap him out of it. So, you might ask the question, who are really Harry's best friends? Perhaps he had...three.**

The corridor was brightened with golden sunlight gathering in warm, contained streaks wherever it could reach, it's tendrils coiling in through the wide windows. Shrieks and squeals could be heard from the group of fourth-years who had congregated by the lake to talk, play in the shallows, or, if they were feeling particularly guilty about not doing their homework, at least _pretend_ to study.

One certain Harry Potter, however, was in no mood to take part in such activities with his classmates. Instead, he secluded himself in an empty hallway to...well...he'd never admit it, but _brood_.

As he settled onto the platform of a stately statue of a magnificent lion, back against the wall and fingers idly tracing one of it's front paws, Harry found himself working back through the three days previous, wondering when he'd ever given Ron reason to doubt his honesty.

_Well,_ a little voice nagged, _honesty wouldn't really be something you're known for, Potter._

_But not with him!_ a defiant bit of his brain cried indignantly.

"I've always been straight with him!" Harry muttered aloud, bringing up one foot to brace against the corner of the statue he was sitting on, resting his arm on his raised knee and twirling his wand between his fingers. Red and gold sparks crackled from it's tip in his anger and frustration, which bubbled just below the surface.

"You've always been straight with who?"

The voice was familiar, yet it took a second to place it. When he looked up, Harry saw, much to his surprise, that the speaker was Ginny Weasley.

"Er...Hi," he mumbled, feeling his face flush at being caught talking to himself.

"May I?" she asked, gesturing towards the spot next to him on the statue.

"All right," he said. _Eloquent,_ the berating voice snorted.

_Shut up,_ he told it firmly.

Ginny brushed some of his trailing robe off the base of the statue and perched herself against the wall next to him, stretching her long legs out in front of her.

Flicking a strand of hair out of her face, she raised one eyebrow at Harry. "Well?"

"What?" he grumbled, glowering at his knee, annoyed that his thoughts had been interrupted.

Ginny sighed impatiently. "Who were you talking about, Harry?" she asked, her tone surprisingly gentle.

"Oh. Ah...Ron," he muttered bitterly, his green eyes hardening at the name of the boy who was supposed to have been his best mate.

"He's _still_ being a prat? I thought he'd come around if given a day or two," Ginny said sympathetically.

"So did I!" Harry burst out, his tone infused with nastiness intended towards the pretty little redhead's brother. "I didn't put my name in that Goblet, Ginny, I really didn't," he added adamantly.

"I know," she said simply, leaning her head against the wall and tilting it to survey him with an expression that was hard to read.

Harry seemed at a loss for a response to Ginny's assertion, so he remained silent, lost in the turmoil of his own thoughts.

"You really believe me?" he queried abruptly, snapping Ginny out of her own thoughts.

"Of course," she stated primly, as though the question were ridiculous and the matter had been closed long ago.

To his own surprise, Harry felt a small smile fighting to take over his face. "Thanks, Gin," he whispered, shifting his eyes only to glance fleetingly at her and grin shyly. She smiled back, settling back into the wall.

The silence deepened, lengthened, but neither felt awkward. An unspoken agreement had risen between them, and neither needed to ask if they were friends now, because both knew: Some bond that had formed when Harry had brought her out of the Chamber of Secrets had finally flared, and they held a special understanding.

A sudden shadow loomed, obliterating the warmth and light that had previously flooded the hallway.

"Potter!" the man snapped, sneering down upon his least-favorite student and the youngest member of his least-favorite family.

"Yes, _Professor_?" Harry growled, scowling and looking anywhere but the teacher staring at himself and Ginny.

"What are you doing inside when all of your..._friends_ -" Snape paused for a moment to revel in the fact that Harry was squirming, uncomfortable with the knowledge that many of his friends didn't believe a word he said currently - "are causing the usual abominable mayhem outside?"

"Nothing," the boy replied malevolently - and truthfully.

Snape glowered.

"And why waste a perfectly good afternoon doing nothing?"

"Well, Professor," Ginny piped up, putting the same amount of loathing into the last three syllables as Harry had, "since we aren't doing anything wrong, I don't see how it's of any consequence."

Harry gave a mental cheer, and had to duck his head to hide a wide grin.

Snape gave an unpleasant grimace, and turned on his heal, calling over his shoulder, "Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Weasley!"

Ginny smirked and sighed, "Oh, well...the look on Snape's face was worth five points."

This time, Harry's smile reached his eyes.

**A/N: So there's chapter one! Each chapter will be a different scene of Harry and Ginny's growing friendship, and then possibly romance. Some will probably be based on fan art, 'cause I've already had a few ideas along those lines. :) Hope you enjoyed, and please review!**

**~PhoenixFlameGinny67**


	2. Acknowledgement

**A/N: I don't own Harry Potter, but I _do_ own Daniel Radcliffe.**

**Not.**

**_Damn!_**

"Harry - _Harry_!"

Harry could hear his name being called almost frantically as he marched resolutely and defiantly away from Rita Skeeter with Ron in tow.

He spun around, ready to snap at the nastily insistent reporter, but instead found himself in and embrace to rival one of Mrs. Weasley's, his vision obstructed by a mane of sweet-smelling, candy-apple red hair.

"Oh, Harry, I was so worried!" exclaimed Ginny into his shoulder before releasing him to reveal her extremely pale face. She was beaming at him.

"But I'm so proud of you," she added, grinning.

"Couldn't have pulled that Summoning Charm off without you and 'Mione, Gin. Thanks for helping me practice."

Ginny blushed, looking away from him.

"Well, I couldn't exactly do much, could I? I'm a year below you, I don't know how to Summon yet."

"Well, you were there, and you were supportive, and that was what I needed."

Harry's tone was awkward; he wasn't used to speaking what was on his mind, and had surprised even himself with his declaration.

Ginny smiled at him. "Good then. Oh, and I see _you've_ stopped your little fit of jealousy," she added scathingly to Ron, who had been glancing between them, shifting uneasily from foot to foot through their conversation. Now he looked ashamed.

Suddenly, the ground seemed a whole lot more interesting to him. He muttered, "Yeah, I saw sense as soon as that bloody Horntail appeared."

Ginny grinned and hugged her brother. "I knew you'd come around," she said bracingly.

"Let's go eat something, shall we?" Harry said, feeling his spirits rise even more as Hermione came hurrying towards them, her eyes still red, but smiling contentedly.

Hermione looped her arm through the younger girl's, and from that moment on, the Golden Trio was no more, to be replaced by the Golden Four.

**A/N: Wo-o-ow, that was shorter than I intended...But I really think this is where it should be left. If I get reviews saying I should add more, I'll work on finding some way to continue it without ruining my vision for it, so tell me what you think I should do. (HINT: REVIEW! :D) I'll be working on chapter three, so it should be up in a matter of days, unless life gets in the way as it tends to do. :D ****In any case...Until next time!**

**~PhoenixFlameGinny67**


	3. Corrected

**DISCLAIMER: I will own Harry Potter when Umbridge willingly adopts Harry.**

**A/N: *GASP!* An update? I know. I'm sooo sorry! Please forgive me! This pesky little think called "real life" got in the way, and I was forced to battle the horrors of school and experience the delights of friendships…Oh, and the fact that my mother has declared that I need to give writing so much fan fiction a break occasionally, stop reading once in a while, and discover the wonders of this conventional thing called **_**television**_**! And she was only half joking. :D In any case, I'm BACK, and plan on getting a lot done! Updates might still be a little slow, 'cause I'm also working on another chapter story that will be posted soon enough. So, don't give up on me, and look forward to the first few installments of "Smile, Harry!" Check the bottom of my profile for more details. **

**In any case….I proudly present the third chapter of His Third Best Friend! :D **

It had been an hour since Ginny's mother had looked at her kindly and informed her that she thought it best if Ginny waited in the hall, as only herself and friends should be allowed to see Harry at the moment. She hadn't had the energy or drive to argue, or explain that she and Harry were, in fact, friends now. Because she knew what would happen. She knew all too well the pitying expression of one older and wiser that her mum would give her, before exchanging looks with the matron of the ward over the top of her head.

Ginny had long-since stopped pacing in front of the Hospital Wing and jumping every time the doors opened, and instead simply sunk to the floor with her back against the cold, hard, rough stone wall, fighting tears and anger and the injustice of the fact that even though she was thirteen, even though she _was_ Harry's friend, her entire family still thought her a foolish little girl with a mortifying crush on the Boy Who Lived. Stupid little Ginny, drawn in so easily, so fragile, possessed by a little black book with so little resistance….

Through the harsh, bitter tears that bubbled in her throat, Ginny gave a snort of derision. She'd like to see how long any of _them_ lasted resisting something with the power that diary had had! They didn't know, couldn't know, what it had been like.

Only the young man lying in a bed beyond the double doors she was slumped next to had any vague idea what she had gone through, and how strong you had to be to fight it.

Ginny Weasley was strong. She was stubborn, and proud, and at the moment, she was so furious she practically glowed with the powerful magical aura she was emitting.

She got to her feet, a defiant look smoldering in her intense brown eyes, damn bent on throwing open those doors and marching into that room to see that Harry was okay for herself, but before she could, they creaked open the slightest bit and someone slipped out.

Her eyes had adjusted to the dim, flickering light the torches provided in the hall ages before, but it still took a moment for her to make out the silhouette of her best friend, Hermione Granger, standing in front of her. Hermione was looking rather triumphant.

"Ron and I," she began breathlessly, "have just convinced your mum that you should be allowed in to see Harry."

Ginny scowled a little at the fact that her mum had to be "convinced", and said, "Thanks, Hermione. Really, sometimes I feel so patronized with them!"

Hermione nodded sympathetically. "I know," she said softly.

She seemed on the verge of saying something, but instead she just gave Ginny a big hug, and entered the room with her.

Ginny smiled gratefully at her brother, but avoided her mother's eyes. Mrs. Weasley was watching her with a sort of calculating expression; she knew her daughter's temper, she knew that she had, perhaps, been wrong, and she knew Ginny was rather hurt under her outer façade of annoyance.

Ginny stepped carefully and purposefully to the other side of Harry's bed and parted the curtains around it just enough to step in.

Stooping over him, she brushed a lock of hair from his forehead and gently removed his glasses, placing them on the table.

Harry's eyes flickered open briefly, showing the bright jade green that Ginny loved so, and he smiled a little, reaching up to brush his knuckles against her cheek. The gesture lasted only a moment, a moment Ginny wasn't sure Harry was conscious of, before his eyes fluttered closed again and his arm fell back across his chest.

Ginny gazed at her friend fondly, his messy black hair sticking up everywhere, his fringe all-but-obscuring the angry red lightning-shaped scar that reminded him so painfully of his past and boded no good for his future. His long black lashes rested against his pale skin, his arms now clean, but one with a deep slash just above the inside of his elbow, clearly visible. It looked as though Madam Pomfrey would be applying a Healing Charm soon.

Ginny sighed and shook her head.

"Oh, Harry…Everything does seem to happen to you, doesn't it?"

There was a soft bark from the end of the bed, and Ginny turned to see the large black dog she knew to be Sirius from Harry's stories sprawled across Harry's feet.

"Hey," she whispered. "I've heard quite a bit about you, you know, Padfoot."

Tentatively, she reached out to scratch behind his ears, but Sirius just leaned into her touch, allowing her to pet him.

She gave him a quick smile, pecked Harry on the cheek, and slipped out of the curtains drawn around the bed.

"I'm going back to Gryffindor tower," Ginny informed her mother, brother, and best friend,

Everyone made general noises of acknowledgement, and Hermione grinned at her impishly.

"Wait up?" she asked. "I'll be there soon, and there's something I want to tell you. It's about Skeeter."

Ginny's eyes lit up with mischief.

"Wonderful. Good night," she added to the other two.

And Mrs, Weasley had to admit, as she watched her daughter walk out of the wing, still radiating the power of her magic and her emotions….

She stood corrected.


	4. Goodbye

**DISCLAIMER: I have Harry Potter tied to a chair in my closet. He's quite cute when he glares and struggles.**

**…**

**A/N: Right, ridiculous disclaimer out of the way...another short chapter! After The Order of the Phoenix, on Platform 9 ¾ when everyone is getting ready to go home for the summer. R&R, Enjoy!**

The familiar rocking motion of the Hogwarts Express slowed, lurching to a stop finally at Platform 9 ¾. Ginny sat in a compartment surrounded by her closest friends - the Ministry Six, as she'd heard people begin to call them after their fiasco there a few days before.

She sat by the window, smiling slightly and half listening to the various conversations continuing around her as the group lingered in their compartment, reluctant to acknowledge the reality of summer, for the fact that most of them would not see each other for a few months at least. Luna was chattering to a bemused Hermione about Crumple Horned Snorckacks, and the bushy-haired witch seemed to be doing her best not to comment, but instead nod politely, smile a little, and exchange incredulous looks with Ginny. Ron was trying to engage Harry in another game of Wizards Chess, but Harry refused resolutely, instead opting to engage Neville in conversation about Quidditch. Harry turned to Ginny abruptly.

"Are you still going to try out next year? For Chaser?"

"Yeah, I reckon I am," she replied lightly. "You'll be missing a couple Chasers, yeah?"

"Hmm...Who do you think will be Captain?"

"You or Katie," Ginny replied promptly, and was pleased to see a gentle blush stain his cheeks.

"Okay, we really should get going," Hermione cut in as the platform started to fill with people.

They gathered their things and let the tide of students carry them outside. The air was warm and a little wet, the promise of summer and the reminder of spring mingling pleasantly. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny bid good-bye to Neville and Luna as they peeled off from the group to go with their gaurdians for the summer.

They marched strait to the barrier and were startled to find quite the entourage waiting. Moody, Lupin, Tonks, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Fred and George were all lolling patiently by the barrier, Hermione's parents hovering on the sidelines hesitantly. Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursley stood nearby, glancing around frantically, looking miserable and agitated.

Hermione and Ginny hugged tightly, and the latter said, "Promise to write, will you, Hermione?"

"Of course!" she chirped, gathering Crookshanks in her arms and smiling at the younger girl.

Ginny scratched the large orange cat's ears and he purred, stretching luxuriously in Hermione's arms. As she turned back to the others, she noticed Vernon backing away from a scowling Moody, looking less than happy. He growled something to Harry, who waved a hasty good-bye to Ron and Hermione before turning.

"Erm...excuse me," the redhead said quickly to Hermione, before running after him.

"Hey, Harry!"

"Gin?"

"Honestly!" Ginny huffed. "Don't expect me to let you leave before saying good-bye."

Harry grinned sheepishly before dropping his trunk and holding out his arms. Surprised but pleased, Ginny wrapped her own around his neck, and whispered, "Let him go, Harry."

"I know I need to," he whispered back. "It's just...I never got the chance."

His voice choked, and he buried his face in Ginny's hair for a moment, regaining control.

"I know, but there's nothing more to do, is there?"

Ginny got no more reply, but she didn't need one. It was time to say goodbye.

**A/N: Sorry to all those who have read this story for the long wait, and I hope to make up for that by updating quickly. By the way, though the first three scenarios were in order, the rest probably won't be. I'll have more OotP stuff in here, but this is obviously set at the end of the book. So...yeah! Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews!**

**~Ari**


	5. Fair

**DISCLAIMER: Nada.**

**A/N: The first sentence is a direct quote from OotP. Dedicated to all those who were infuriated by how this part of the book actually went. I almost threw the book across the room to be honest, and I desperately wanted Ginny to stand up for herself. :) Enjoy! R&R as usual. **

_"Fine!" shouted Mrs. Weasley. "Fine! Ginny - BED!"_

Ginny could feel fury rising in her throat: She was sick of this, and wasn't going to just let it go. For a moment, she glared at her mom, then she stood.

"I will leave," she stated calmly, "but I want to remind you of something first, Mother. Maturity and thus right to have information should not be based on age. I grew up at the age of eleven bloody years, and yet you insist upon treating me as though I'm ten.

"I have more right to hear this than Ron and Hermione do," she added, her voice quite steady. "After all, I fought him for a year. I know you want to protect us, Mum, but its too late for me. i will fight with Harry every step of the way, whether you like it or not. I am _already _part of this war."

Ginny met Harry's eyes, and watched in satisfaction as a smile grew on his face.

She turned to leave, but the scrape of a chair made her hesitate, and the next second she was wrapped in a hug that smelled like cinnamon and rainwater.

Harry's nose burrowed in her hair for a moment before he whispered, "Thank you, Ginny. I'd protect you if I could, but its only fair I don't try to."

Ginny brushed the nape of his neck, sighing as the downy-soft black hair touched her fingers, and smiled/

"Good," she replied, and broke the embrace, turning to march upstairs.

The kitchen was silent for a good minute after her departure. Molly, looking slightly pale and very conflicted, sank into a wobbly old wooden chair wearily.

Finally, she snapped, "Well, if you're going to tell them..."

Sirius locked eyes with his godson, and a silent understanding was reached: What Sirius said would be passed on to the passionate witch who's speech had shaken everyone.

Three quarters of an hour later, the kids left the gloomy basement kitchen, weighted down by the information gleaned.

"You're going to tell her, aren't you?" Hermione whispered as they crept past the portrait of Madam Black.  
>Harry's face was hard and set, his swirling green eyes fixed on his converse sneakers.<p>

"Yes," he said simply.

"What? No, mate, are you insane?" Ron said in an urgent undertone.

"Why not?" Harry queried defiantly. "She was right in everything she said."

"Even about us not having as much right as she does? I don't think that's fair."

But Harry cut him off brusquely. "well, what right _do_you have? Other than being my best friends? She's part of this as much as I am."

"Its a very foolish thing to do, Harry," Hermione chided, her tone logical but her words holding no meaning for Harry.

"How so?" he asked evenly.

"I - It - She - Mrs. Weasley said not to!" Hermione spluttered.

Harry chuckled darkly. "She said no such thing. All she said was that Ginny had to go to bed. Well, she did, didn't she?" he added when both his friends seemed at a loss for words.

"It was clearly implied!" Hermione argued, imploring, but Harry sped up and his lack of response was a clear indicator that the conversation was over.

He broke stride at the door next to his and Ron's room, raising a fist and tapping his knuckles against it lightly.

"I'm not up for a lecture, Mum," came Ginny's soft voice from inside. "Can't we talk in the morning?" She sounded weary and just a little defeated.

"Nah, Gin, its just me," Harry called, a smile in his voice.

There was a muted rustling as bedclothes were thrown back, and a crinkle of paper. Something hit the floor with a muffled clatter, and rolled.

"Shite," Ginny grumbled, then called, "Come on in, Harry!"

A little hesitantly, Harry twisted the tarnished handle and let the door fall open.

Ginny stood from the floor where she'd been rifling under the bed, holding up a smooth black quill tipped with luxurious gold. She placed the quill carefully atop the notebook that sat on her bed.

"Writing?" Harry inquired, slightly surprised as he tugged the door shut behind him.

"Poems. Songs, sometimes," she admitted, blushing prettily.

Harry grinned. "I'd like to hear sometime," he said hopefully.

Ginny just smiled, her lips forming a clear message though she did not speak it: _Maybe_.

"Well, I don't reckon you've just come up here to harass me about my writing?" she prompted playfully after a moment.

Harry flushed, and she giggled.

"Not exactly," he conceded. "But I thought you'd like to know what was said in the kitchen."

Ginny grinned eagerly, plopping herself cross-legged on her bed and motioning for Harry to sit.

He did, and she said, "Well, then..."

Harry launched himself into an explanation of Sirius' information. Ginny listened intently, stopping him only to ask questions but otherwise letting him reel off what he knew.

"Its odd," Ginny murmured as Harry wound down. "Now we have all this information, and I sort of feel like we're supposed to do something with it. But..."

She trailed off helplessly, and shrugged, picking at the fraying edge of her red comforter.

Harry nodded and tapped a nonsensical pattern on his thigh agitatedly with his fingers.

Ginny gave a heavy sigh and shook her head. "Maybe we can. We'll figure something out."

Harry glanced up at her, allowing bit of hope to tinge his bright green eyes.

"Ron and Hermione didn't think I should tell you anything," Harry blurted after a pause.

"I'm not surprised," Ginny drawled idly, a grimace in her voice though her hair prevented Harry from seeing her face clearly as she paged through her notebook, running her fingers delicately over the words scrawled in smudged purple ink.

Harry gave a noncommittal shrug and offered, "Ron reckons its not fair."

Ginny snorted slightly, but Harry saw her wince.

"We obviously have a very different idea of fair," Harry whispered, swallowing hard.

The redhead smiled at him greatfuly. The silence stretched, and Harry finally said, "I'd better get going before your mum really does come up to check on us," he said, grinning mischievously. "Like you thought," he added.

Ginny laughed. "Can't have that."

"Yeah, what about...some sort of knock?"

Ginny looked at him inquiringly.

"Like...say..."

Harry rapped lightly on the edge of the door in a familiar tune, singing quietly, "His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad..."

Ginny groaned and buried her face in her hands, and Harry burst out laughing when she moaned, "Harry! That's not _fair_!"


	6. Fine

**DISCLAIMER: I think you're just mocking me now...**

**A/N: *Giggles nervously* Hey guys... Yeah, obviously I haven't been doing very well in the updating department. But I have a good reason! If you haven't read my latest PJO story, "Shoebox", here's what's been going on: **

**Luna-Moonberry-Lovegood, who is writing the companion piece to "Smile, Harry!", requested that I not post any more chapters until she's caught up so that she can actually be a part of writing these stories. And I agreed. And things are going rather slowly, because we're both pretty busy. Unfortunately, the new school year is not helping our little time problem at **_**all**_**. We're both doing our best, and we'll hopefully be posting more soon. In the meantime, I'll continue writing one-shots here and there to tide you over and (hopefully!) keep you interested. :)**

**Anyway, thanks for your patience. Enjoy!**

**~PhoenixFlameGinny67**

* * *

><p><em>'"I didn't want anyone to talk to me," said Harry, who was feeling more and more nettled.<em>

_"Well, that was a bit stupid of you," said Ginny angrily, "seeing as you don't know anyone but me who's been possessed by You-Know-Who, and I can tell you how it feels."_

_Harry remained quite still as the impact of these words hit him. Then he wheeled around._  
><em>"I forgot," he said.<em>

_"Lucky you," said Ginny coolly.'_  
><em>~Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by J.K. Rowling<em>

* * *

><p>It was suffocating - everything. The darkness, the bedclothes, Hermione's sleeping presence on the other side of the room...<p>

Kicking her way out of her prison of cotton, Ginny swung her legs over the side of the bed and welcomed the sudden cold. Her mother balked at her sleep attire: The smallest, most comfortable pair of gray shorts and an old yellow Cami. By the time she was thirteen, Molly had no longer been able to force her daughter into one of those horrid pink nightdresses that twisted around her body every time she moved and made her look like a washed-out maiden from Victorian times with freckles and no clue how to choose clothes that didn't clash with her unfortunate hair colour.

She contemplated a dressing gown, but then reasoned that (despite the cold air) she was more comfortable without it. Besides - nobody was up at such an ungodly hour. It wasn't like anyone would see her.

Ginny wandered through the maze of a house with little intent, the vague, unfinished notion of hot chocolate directing her to the unwelcoming basement kitchen.

The door was propped open and candlelight traced the walls with its restless fingers.

"Hello."

Ginny gasped shallowly and jerked back.

"Sorry," said Harry sheepishly. "I didn't mean to -"

"No, no, it's fine. I just didn't expect -"

"Nor did I -"

"- And I couldn't sleep, and I - This is ridiculous, isn't it?"

Harry snorted into his mug of tea, and Ginny was just glad to hear him laugh after so long.

"A bit," he conceded once he'd finished choking on mirth and Earl Gray. "What are you doing up anyway?" he asked as Ginny settled onto the bench across the table from him and helped herself to a sip from his mug. ("At this time?" she would ask him later, once she knew his routine. "I like it," he'd reply simply.)

Ginny shrugged. "I couldn't sleep. Have you ever noticed how many snakes there are in this house?" she asked (more of a remark).

Harry chuckled. "Yeah. I have. It's disturbing."

Ginny granted him a half-smile and an involuntary little shiver.

"I'm sorry," Harry blurted into the awkward pause that followed.

"What for?" asked a surprised Ginny.

"You know...what I said earlier...I didn't really...I'm just sorry I forgot," he finished rather lamely.

Ginny was silent for a moment. It had stung, that he'd forgotten about the Chamber. In some morbid sense, it was Ginny's connection with him. She doubted he'd ever forget saving Sirius and Buckbeak with Hermione, or confronting Aragog with Ron.

But it was also rather insensitive of him to admit to her that he had forgotten the single most horrific experience of her fourteen years of existence. "Oh, sorry Ginny, you were possessed and used by Lord Voldemort. Slipped my mind!"

It had hurt. But she was fine. She was always fine. She _had _to be fine, because it didn't really matter if she wasn't, so long as she pretended she was. There were more pressing matters at hand than Ginny Weasley's well-being, and she honestly didn't mind. She preferred to keep her feelings to herself, if not her thoughts.

And so she told him, "It's fine," because it was.

Harry gave her an odd look, and she nearly groaned, remembering that he was the king of "fine".

But then he shrugged and let it go. And it hurt more than she thought it would.

"Well, we can always go snake-hunting while we're cleaning. See how many of the buggers we can take out," Harry offered with a half grin.

Ginny snickered. "Look out for that candlestick, Harry! It's about to strike," she cried mockingly, pointing behind him. It only served to make her laugh harder when he actually jumped.

Through stifled snickers, Harry threw an unused teabag at Ginny and ducked her retaliation.

They both went back to bed smiling and, for the first time in quite a while, fine. Just fine.


End file.
